Adore
by NiGhT-sTaLkEr13
Summary: Megatron and a victim. G1/IDW/AU setting. Pre-war. Dark religious themes that might offend, gore, high levels of profanity, mental instabilities and sexual themes. PLEASE READ AT OWN RISK.


Adore.

**WARNING: The following contains dark religious themes that might offend, gore, high levels of profanity, mental instabilities and sexual themes, including necrophilia and masturbation. Please read at own risk!**

Characters: Megatron (G1)

*Ute (yute) = The coupé utility automobile body style, named Ute in Australia. 

Hearing his mother pray, Megatron's optics dimmed for a moment, listening to her as she murmured sweet nothings to her Lord. It was a daily routine before he went to bed. She'd come in, toy with him, and then ask for the Lord to watch over him, like it was going to take back her filthy fucking actions.  
He was kneeled; elbows on the berth as his hands were together, having to take part in this purifying prayer. He didn't feel pure, though. In fact, he felt nothing but dirty. He wanted to take another shower, but he knew his mother would tell him he had to sleep with this filth, so that he'd know he was a sinner, and feel like one, only to wake up and be 'cleansed'.  
It didn't work. It never did. Every morning, he woke up with the same disgusting feel across his body. His skin crawled, his systems shaking in disgust. He just wanted to spit in Primus' face and tell him to go fuck himself. Then maybe he'd feel defiled like the subject he became underneath his own mother. Maybe then he'd actually give him an answer to why he was suffering so damn much in life.  
As his mother continued to mumble, he let his optics come online, side-glancing the larger femme, only to have her smack his face back into the correct position as she heard his movement. He gave a small grunt, but obeyed the order, bowing his head once more, his optics becoming dim.

"Please forgive us for our sins, and purify this child beside me," said the femme, her voice barely audible as she clutched onto the beads inside her light coloured palms. And making the signs of her religion, she placed her hands down, standing to her pedes and kissing her son on the helm, saying goodnight before she left the room.

Watching as she left, Megatron clutched hard onto the beads inside his own palm, giving a soft breath as he placed them onto the small table beside his berth. Tomorrow was just another day. Another day to go to school. Another day to be tormented. And another day to hate his mother's God.

*****  
Throwing the knife down, oil splattered across the table, Megatron giving a soft noise at the sight before him. Stellar-cycles had passed, but he'd never forget the rituals he was brought up to follow. He'd given up on praying to Primus since he was convicted of rape and murder, but even that seemed like vorns ago.  
Instead of praying, his obsession and daily rituals consisted of much darker themes. His work in the mines was just a distraction from his real purpose, and a great way to get credits. Hell, it payed for this workshop, didn't it? Not to mention the Ute that was parked outside.  
As the femme on the bench in front of him was still, he wiped the back of his palm over the front of his helm, sweat dripping from his frame as he swallowed hard. Primus, she was beautiful. In every way possible. Her death stuck to the walls of the room, and was thick and musty in the room. It only added to his excitement, though, and he could feel the head of his cable pulsing against the inside of his cod-piece. It hurt to keep it in, but he had other plans.  
Walking up beside the femme, he ran his fingers gracefully up her frame as he reached her helm, blood trailing behind his fingertips to weave small webs across her corpse. Still, it made his spark thump hard as he realised her optics were positioned towards him, and he smacked the table, giving a growl.  
"Slut!" he hissed, shoving her face in the other direction so she wasn't looking at him. It made his oil run cold the way they looked at him and judged him when he was so filthy and covered in their life fluids. It made him feel sick, and it made him remember the way his mother would look at him with those undress-me-optics.  
Breathing hard, he placed a hand to the side of his helm, visions flashing behind his optics as he remembered every horrid detail of that femme. "Nnn…!" he groaned, sharp slits of pain pulsing into his processor and making him grab the container that was on the next bench, opening the lid and tipping it back. Only nothing came out.  
"_Fuck…!_ he winced, throwing the empty container across the room and leaning onto the bench, voices of his past victims taunting him and screaming at him. They all deserved it! He didn't care what they said in his head! They deserved to be torn to shreds by his hands! They were nothing but worthless whores, the lot of them. Even the ones who were pure. Strutting around the place and making him fall to his knees in lust. Fuck them and their temptation!  
Calming himself, he pushed the thoughts from his head, his head turning to the relaxed femme across from him. She had been, and still was, beautiful. He had watched her for solar-cycles, walking the streets of Kaon, though like a spec of white against a sheet of black. She wore that pendant around her neck, sitting perfectly against her virgin breasts.  
Giving a grin, he ran his hand down to the pendant that was around his own neck. It wasn't like hers, though. He wouldn't defile himself with that disgusting form of Primus like she had. And that made him angry. As long as she wore that piece of shit, she'd always belong to that God. Well, he'd change that, wouldn't he?  
Walking over to the femme, he turned her head back to him, letting her optics watch him. "Primus never saved you, femme," he murmured, his tone holding nothing but hatred for the God. "And you'll never find _salvation!_" he spat, grabbing the pendant that was on her neck and ripping it off, smacking it onto the bench.  
It aggravated him that such a beautiful femme would believe in such vicious lies. Lies that had caused the loss of his beliefs. Lies that had caused him nights of torture beneath his mother, and nights that went unanswered for solar-cycle after solar-cycle. How could _anyone_ believe that salvation lied at the end of that fucking bastard!? He was nothing but a malicious mech that watched from the sidelines, never lifting a finger to help a soul that believed in him.  
"Filthy fucking liar!" he said, grabbing the necklace and squeezing it tightly in his palm, his optics clenching before looking back to the femme who lay perfectly quiet beneath his command. "Such a waste. Your God isn't there to see you now, is he?" he asked, giving a small frown as he leant his elbows onto the bench, looking over her and giving a light smile. "But I'm here. I'm here to show you the path to true salvation. And I can prove to you just how filthy your God is," he said, darkness in his voice, and yet, the smallest of compassion for her.  
Leaning down, he bit his lip as he looked into her cold, pale optics, the sight before him only making his erection pulse harder against the insides of his plating. "I'll show you the way," he whispered, leaning down and kissing her cold, pallid lips. And without hesitation, he ran his left hand down his own frame, unclipping himself and giving a relieved moan as his pulsating member slipped out, dripping with lubrication already.  
"Nn… Primus," he almost whimpered, his body shaking as he pushed himself onto the table and straddled her, taking the necklace and hooking it behind his sharp denta. "You want to see your salvation from above? Then I'll give it to you," he whispered, his words muffled from the lace in his mouth, though his jaw slacking as he ran his palm up and down his hardened cable, his breathing going hard as he began a rough, but steady, pace.  
Fuck, she was perfect beneath him. Cold, stiff and still. Well, she wasn't completely cold, but she was getting there, and as he leant up onto his knees, he let his hand run down the front of her face, sinking between those two perfect, rounded lips, a small, rough trail of dried saliva covering his digits.  
"Oh… Yes…" he hissed, his head pounding as he bit down hard on the chain inside his mouth, savouring the metallic flavour as he dreamily slipped his fingers down the back of her throat. If she were alive, she would be sputtering, choking and vomiting, but she was the perfect candidate. No noise. No objection. No mess. Just pure death.  
Feeling the pendant drop from his mouth, he panted hard, his left hand only leaving his throbbing shaft to pick the necklace up and wrapped it around the appendage. "I'll show you just how filthy he is," he grinned, optics flickering for a moment as he swallowed hard, his neck arching back as the pleasure rose through him, the sight of defiling such purity more than enough to make him overload then and there. But he held it off. Not now. He couldn't come so quickly. He had to savour every defiling moment, making sure that Primus would feel what he had for so many vorns.  
"You like this!?" he hissed, his optics narrowing hard as he jaw tightened. "You lying bastard! You deserve every fucking violation, you dirty fucking _cunt!_" he all but yelled at the top of his pumps, both in pleasure and hate, his left hand pumping harder and harder, getting to the stage where the tied up pendant around his cable was causing a horrid, raw pain. But that didn't stop him, it only drove him to continue.  
Taking his fingers from her mouth, he leant it on her jaw, ripping it down and breaking the skeleton, congealed oil oozing and trailing down the broken flesh. And it made his body clench, his stomach tight as the pleasure rode through him, the smell and sight of the oil setting him off into his own fantasies of pain and pleasure.  
Within a moment, he was giving a hard, strained groan, lubricant spurting from his heated head and dribbling down to the corpse below him, leaving thick webs across the pendant that was now hanging quite loosely from his cable.  
"Uhn…" he breathed, sitting on his hands and knees as he caught his breath, his optics shutting offline for a moment as he got his bearings. Everything around him seemed to spin as he had hit that perfect moment. And giving a soft, though growing, manic laugh, he looked to the pendant that slipped from his relaxing cable, dropping to the femme's valve.  
"Not so pure now, are you, you fucking disease…" he whispered, spitting on the pendant before running his fingers into his own lubrication and coating the symbol with it. "How does it feel? Not very good, I'll bet! Now you'll know what I've suffered, if only a spec of the truth," he sneered, pushing himself up and off the bench.  
Closing the femme's legs, he grabbed one of the small towels from the other bench and wiped his hands and cable down, putting his cod-piece back on. "Even the Well of Allsparks can't keep you safe," he said, throwing the towel over her face so she wasn't looking at him again.  
Turning on his heal, he grabbed one of the tarps that were against the wall, laying it out over the second bench before turning to the femme and taking her body into his arms. He, surprisingly, laid her gently into the material, wrapping it around her, though making sure to remove the pendant before doing so.  
Once she was ready to go, he flipped her over his shoulder, holding her and making sure the coast was clear before opening the door and dumping her into the back of the Ute. He stood for a moment, watching the stiff lump of blue before closing the small bed cover and opening the right side of the vehicle to sit in.  
Snapping the door closed, the silver mech grabbed the filth covered pendant and draped it over the mirror, accompanying the other twenty or so. After all, who would suspect a religious mech who clearly adored Primus of such crimes?

**Author's Comment:**

_Certainly one of my more darker themes ficlets, but I'm on a dark role, and I'm enjoying it. :) This is to let you guys get a sense of how Megatron reacted sometimes over Primus as well as femmes. This one specifically being one of those religious ones he's spoken about before in my series/ficlets. _

_The pendants at the end was a symbol of just how many other's he's killed. So no, they're not his. Just to get the confusion out of the way. It's other victims'._


End file.
